


Generosity

by OwlOfMyLove



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Acts of Kindness, Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Rumbelle Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-02-27 04:33:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2679251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlOfMyLove/pseuds/OwlOfMyLove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two days before Christmas Belle finds herself stranded on the side of the road outside of a small Maine town and relies on the kindness of one lonely stranger to help her on her way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Generosity

**Author's Note:**

> Rumbelle Secret Santa 2014.  
> For Emilianna-Pond, a lovely soul who prompted "they meet on vacation." Enjoy dear. It has been a pleasure being your Santa this year.

It was just her luck.

Only a few simple hours away from her destination and it would be of all days that she would overlook the slightest curve of the road and find herself trapped with the front of her old car in the ditch occupied with a thick mountain of snow and the rear of the car revving violently into the white road. She was thankful to spare injuries to her body and thanked the seat belt that secured her in place from hitting her head against the steering wheel. 

Belle French shivered violently. The old car could only provide so much heat to warm her and being trapped in the ditch provided no aid. Her hazard lights blinking from the moment she knew she was trapped and not a single car had passed by in the half hour she had been stuck there. 

The outdated paper map in front of her told her there was a town only a few miles away. Walking distance, if she was a expert distance walker instead of the girl who took small strolls around the block, but in this weather she knew she would have no such luck making it a mere half-mile. Her cell phone carried nearly no reception and with no signal, she was incapable of calling a tow-truck to rescue her from such a spot. Her reception bars came and went as fast as a blinking eye and she feared she would have to wait out the storm in her car if no signal or no other vehicles made themselves present soon. 

This was to be a simple vacation. A trip upstate to Maine to visit her Father for Christmas which she hadn't done in years. A chance to visit her small childhood town where everyone knew each other and enjoy a week and a half of lounging by the old fireplace she adored as a child and investing long, uninterrupted hours with one of the many books she brought with her to put her mind away from work. 

She let out a ragged sigh and could tell her heater was opting now of all times to kick off momentarily as she saw her breath appear in front of her. She held up her phone again in odd angles in hopes of catching enough and when she grew tired, threw her phone in the passenger seat in frustration. 

A car passed by. Fast and in a hurry to get out of the storm itself as soon as possible, paying no mind to Belle and her trouble. 

Belle let out a frustrated groan and cursed the unknown occupant of the car. 

Her heater kicked up again, sending a heavy unpleasantly scented burst of hot air to her face. At least now she was assured at least twenty or so more minutes of warmth before the heater faltered again in a redundant cycle that offered no assistance.

Another car. Fast and no attention to Belle like the first.

"Wonderful," she ragged, "I'm going to freeze to death in the middle of Maine two days before Christmas." 

The snow outside continued to fall just as heavy and thick as the moment she entered the county. Christmas music would have been perfect to accompany the view and she could happily picture what she'd be doing if she ever made it to her destination; snow dancing in front of her, soft music of her favourite carols playing as she curled up to her childhood fireplace with a book. Her Father in his favourite chair, flipping through the holiday family photo albums from when her Mother was alive and taking the occasional break from her story to have him tell Belle the story behind a specific photo he felt nostalgic over that time.

Glancing up from her rear-view mirror she could see the lights of another car. Possibly, she hoped, slowing down as it came closer and closer. Her heart began to pound against her chest with excitement. Before the car even came to a halt, Belle burst from her car only to fall to her knees in the thick snow from underestimating how much deeper it had became since she first stepped out to see how badly her poor car was trapped.

Shivering, now with icy legs and hands, Belle stood up and was relieved to see that the car, a lovely black Cadillac, had pulled to the side of the road to offer her aid. She was too impatient to wait for the driver to open up their door before she made her way over to the drivers window, grinning wildly and trembling from the cold. 

No sooner did the car window roll down did Belle burst into a wild sputter of appreciation.

"Oh, thank you so much," she shivered. "I've been stuck here for some time and the first car that passed didn't even slow down. I'm trapped in there pretty deep; I was so blind and didn't even see the curve of the road and I think I'm going to need a tow-truck but I'm having a hard time getting any reception out in this weather. I'm Belle French." She thrust a pale, frozen hand his way in the middle of her fast talking.

She finally stopped speaking long enough to pay attention to the good Samaritan. A handsome, older gentleman with graying hair to his shoulders but in a sophisticated look. Eyes looking tired and an expensive suit pulling his tasteful appearance together. The man looked stiff, as if he had also been driving for many hours through uncomfortable weather. 

From inside the car, he took her frozen hand with his and shook it. His hand was soft and held enough heat to temporarily make her forget how frozen she exactly was at that precise moment. 

"Royce Gold," he replied with a comforting Scottish accent. 

She backed away to let him out of the car and let him get out to inspect how badly she was trapped in the ditch. 

The harsh cold winds caused Royce let out a gritted hiss and clench his soft hands into hardened fists. He was silent as he circled around the car to inspect what damage had been done and how deep she was in.

"There's an auto shop in the next town that can help take care of you," he finally said when he finished his round. "The young man who takes care of towing does an excellent job in mechanics, perhaps the best in the state, and should have you on your way in no time."

Belle sighed happily. "I can't thank you enough Mr. Gold."

He looked at his phone and let out his own sigh of annoyance. No reception; she knew that expression all too well.

"Storybrooke isn't far," he spoke calmly. "If you're not too put-off by the idea of riding in the car with an older man I'd be welcomed to assist you until you can get on your way."

"That would be very much appreciated." She thanked him again, grinning ear to ear from her turn of luck. 

His car was warm. Though spacious, getting inside to the amount of warmth inside wrapped around her like a comforting cocoon that she appreciated in more words than she could ever express.  She shivered and rubbed her arms viciously to generate warmth and let her eyes wander around the car. Spared from dust, dirt, and smears. Only marked now because of the chunks of snow her shoes brought in with her that began to melt onto the floor into dirty pools.

Royce Gold joined her shortly after and let out a soft shudder himself before shifting the car and heading down the road cautiously.

Apparently he was a man of few words and she could only express her gratitude so many times before hearing 'thank you' grew tiresome. Perhaps if he even had the radio on to play a cheerful Christmas jingle it would help the silence but the heater blasting through the Cadillac was the only noise.  A sign told her that she had ten miles until Storybrooke, much further than the paper map told her, and wasn't going to spend another moment sitting next to this man without knowing more than his name. 

"I'm on my way to visit my Father," she started in a calm voice. "I only get a few days for vacation each year so I spend them driving up to Maine to spend time with him. I don't think I can ever recall driving through Storybrooke before."

"It's a small town and very easy to miss if you're not deliberately looking for it." His tone was very comforting and not laced with the uncomfortable raise that was common when strangers were forced to engage in small talk. 

"How long have you lived here for?" 

She swore she saw the corner of Royce's lip curve into a brief smile.

"I haven't lived in Storybrooke for many years. It's where my cabin is and twice a year my son and I meet in Storybrooke we come here and spend the holidays together."

"You have a son?" She was intrigued. Royce Gold looked older than her but she wouldn't expect more than two decades. His finger bore no ring and he wondered where the wife, if there was ever one, was. 

"Neal. A young man now, married and his wife expecting now." There was no doubt that he had pride while speaking the little he did of his son. A Father's pride that Belle had seen in her own many times. 

She didn't expect him to say much more about a private manner and asked him instead about the town and what there was to offer for attractions should she choose to stop by when she makes her drive back down. When arriving to Storybrooke, a charming little town that looked so peaceful and a beautiful escape from reality that the simple drive down Main St was enough to help her realize why Royce would continue to come here for vacation periods, he spared no time in driving straight to the repair shop. Craning her neck slightly to the right gave her a fair view of the tow-truck that would help her get on her way. 

The shop was cold when they walked in and though it was warmer than the five seconds she spent outside, it didn't stop an uncomfortable shiver running up her spin and her wet knees tingle uncomfortably. 

"Oh you're back in town Mr. Gold? Did you just get in?" A tall and handsome young man asked, his hands dirty from working on cars all day. 

"Just now, thank you Billy," Royce replied. "I'm in need of your services though. This is Belle French and her car is trapped in a ditch a few miles outside of town."

Billy smiled at Belle and greeted her, refraining his hands due to the grease and oil that stained them. 

"I didn't see the curve," Belle blushed sheepishly. 

Billy looked out the window of the shop and let out a dejecting sigh. "I'm sorry Mr. Gold but the weather looks too rough at the moment. I'm going to have to wait until it passes to pull her out. It may have to wait until morning. I know the snow is just going to trap her car in a bit more but I can bring Leroy with me to help shovel around and we should have it back in no time. I'll be sure to check on it for you, Miss French, to make sure there's no damage."

She wouldn't lie if she said that having to wait until tomorrow made her heart sink. Christmas Eve was tomorrow and she was still four hours away from seeing her Father. He was expecting her tonight and he'd fret over where she was if she didn't give him a long story about what happened. 

Royce thanked Billy and exchanged a few quiet words before he ushered her back to his car. 

"There's a local diner here that is very popular," Royce promoted. "It's a Bed and Breakfast so everything you'll need for the night. Right down the road and too so in the morning when the shop opens up you can go with Billy to get your car."

"Oh," Belle said in a rather disappointed tone. "I don't have any of my clothes though. All of my belongings except for my purse are still miles outside of town. Paying for the tow-truck along will take away the very little I have in the bank and I don't think I could afford a small town Bed and Breakfast on my poor salary. Can I, if it's not too much, stay with you?"

Royce looked at her with sheer disbelief. He had known this young woman for no better than an hour and she was unconditionally trusting him. 

"It's no problem at all Miss French," he flippantly replied.

"Belle," she urged. 

He drove just a few short miles down the road, showing her exactly how small Storybrooke was with how little they had to travel to get to where they needed, to stop at a small grocery store to pick up needed items for them. Belle waited in the car, anxious as the snow continued with it's blanket like fall and called her Father to let him know the details of her unexpected arrangement. He scolded, naturally, the idea of her spending the night in the home of a man she met on the side of the road and gently reminded him of the pepper spray she carried with her whenever she traveled. Belle didn't feel any need of it now; Royce Gold was, amidst his professional and businessman approach, a gentle soul. 

x

The cabin was the perfect distance outside of Storybrooke. Far enough to escape the small town quirks but close to still rush in should an emergency on what to make for dinner would arise. It was a beautiful cabin and Belle could only stare and admire it when they pulled up. Blanketed around perfect, fresh snow, firewood stacked high and long over the front deck to keep them warm through a blizzard. It was something perfectly described in her stories of log cabin living, matching every detail to sheer perfection except for the gold crocodile on the front door. 

Inside it was clear that of the Gold men had been by or called ahead to have someone clean the place in preparation of their visit. Polished wood furniture, logs already neatly stacked by the fireplace that was waiting to burn, counters free of any dust that would have built up since the last visit, floors spotless, a literal image of a spotless cabin.

"Are you hungry?" He asked as he set the groceries onto the counter, pulling them out of the bags and debating on what to start.

She followed him again, reliant on his guidance and nearby company. "Yes, thank you. Would you like some help?"

Belle didn't wait for him to answer and took the items she knew needed to be refrigerated and began to fill it up to look more lively. Common grocery items that would be on anyone's list and nothing spectacular in his choice caught her attention. He bought very little, given how many would be staying in the cabin. Even if she was just for tonight there were still two adults on their way and the grocery bags he brought in would feed them for only a few short days before another run would be needed.

His cell phone rang a default tone and Royce excused himself to the next room as she continued to unpack the groceries, moving now to ones that would reside in the pantry; even less belonged in there.

When Royce returned, well beyond the time after Belle finished with the groceries and waiting like a child waiting on directions on how to properly prepare dinner, his expression wrestled between looking discouraged and remaining in it's neutral state.

"Everything okay?" She prodded. 

"My son called. His wife, Emma, is having a bit of a difficulty with her pregnancy and is advised to stay on bed rest for the next two weeks. They were expected to arrive tomorrow afternoon."

"I'm so sorry. Will she be all right?"

Briefly again, she saw the corners of his mouth swiftly travel upwards into a quick smile. "Emma is strong, she'll be fine. Henry, their unborn son, has very headstrong and determined parents. Neal said their child is just too excited to wait."

"Are you going to drive to them for Christmas?" 

"Neal and I came to an agreement on our current arrangements. I have promised to help you this evening Miss French and my son was all too enthusiastic for me to stay here and help tend to your plight."

"I leave tomorrow though. You're still spending Christmas alone and you came up here for your vacation to be with your family, not a stranger whose car is mangled on the side of the road."

He placed a hand up in front of her, as if to stop her words of protest from reaching him. "It's no matter Miss French. Before Neal was an adult I spent many Christmastimes alone. One more will not cause me harm. And it seems as though my grandson will be making an early entry to the world I'll be spending much time with them soon. Worry not, Miss French, your company is deeply appreciated however short it may be."

Comforted, Belle smiled with Royce and pointed to the food she left on the counter. "It's Belle. And is this alright?"

"You're the guest Miss French, is it what you desire tonight?"

" _Belle_ ," she urged again. "If you keep calling me Miss French am I going to be calling you Mr. Gold all night?" 

Her question intrigued him. "Not at all. Royce will be fine if that's what you prefer."

She grinned. "Royce it is. Well, should we get started on dinner?"

Again, the corners of his mouth turned upwards and formed his soothing smile that she had grown deeply attached to in mere hours. 

Together prepped their small dinner. Far from fancy which Belle assumed Royce Gold would be all to accustom to by the way he dressed and spoke. It was perfect to her; living off of minimum wage and opting to cut out the treats in her life that she was so fond of. Steak being one of them and something that she had offered for their meal. He had chosen only the best cuts and biting into the meat was almost perfection; juicy and tender with the steak sauce Royce had purchased adding the most delicious flavour imaginable. Potatoes were perfectly buttered and doused in cheese, just the way she liked it. The last time she ate such a wonderful meal was on a date nearly a year ago. The meal being the only enjoyable mention of the date. 

Their conversations at the dinner table dabbled lightly on the weather; the go-to topic for all conversations that were poorly lit and needed some ounce of fire to get words flowing. The way he spoke of the snow was fond, as if the cold was no bother to him and he was more-so loving the fact that there was a possibility he could be snowed in his little cabin for a few days. She never prodded, but only assumed that Royce was a man who enjoyed his privacy. 

"You mentioned you spent Christmases alone before your son was an adult. Was he with his mother?" She looked back at his bare ring finger long after dinner had been consumed and dishes all cleaned and put up. 

"His mother and I divorced when he was a young child. She remarried very soon after and had him for many of the holidays." Royce responded quickly, easy to move away from the mention of his former wife. 

Belle walked over to the mantle above the fireplace, taking long glances into the different pictures of Neal throughout the ages. Neal dressed in fine clothes with an over-sized backpack held tightly in his arms; first day of school. A vacation photo taken a few years later with a young Royce holding a preteen Neal close to him. A prom photo with a beautiful blonde woman that would confirm her assumption of being Emma as the next photo was a wedding photo of the young couple with Royce next to them all glowing from the joyous day. 

"Why didn't you remarry?" She asked absentmindedly before catching the intrusion of the question. "Oh. I'm sorry, that was very rude of me."

Royce caught a laugh in his throat. "I could be asking you the same question, Belle. Why isn't a young woman like yourself married?"

Belle felt warmth in her cheeks, colour painting her the deepest shades of red. He didn't need to know her love life, or lack of there of. Just as she didn't need to know of his. It's not as if Royce Gold was a potential boyfriend that she would be bringing home to her Father for the holidays to introduce how serious their relationship was. "Perhaps we could talk about something else? Maybe start a fire before the cabin gets too cold?"

He grinned at her, enjoying the reaction she gave and moved next to her to place logs into the fire and welcomed her assistance of adding additional logs to his neat pile inside of the fireplace. 

"Do you have a tree that you're going to set up?"

He paused for a moment, trying to recall if such a thing was still hidden somewhere in the cabin. 

"In the attic above."

Belle let out a series of incoherent words that only were heard by Royce as squeaks. "I have the most wonderful idea; I'll bring down the tree and as we decorate we'll listen to Christmas music. Then when we're all finished we can enjoy a nice cup of hot cocoa."

"Nothing would make me happier, Belle." He caught himself, forgetting not to call her Miss French again. 

She touched his arm, giving it a firm squeeze from excitement before running off down the hall to find the string to tug on that would create the staircase for her to reach the attic and grabbed what she needed. From the attic she called down to him with excitement. Thrilled that he had a pre-lit tree that could be easily set up so neither one of them had to go saw one down from the front yard and freeze more. Belle French gasped and made more joyful noises yet again when she found the box of ornaments. Classic bulbs that varied in sizes of gold, silver, red, and green. 

By now the young woman had made herself at home. She directed him in how to help her set up the tree, helped herself to turning on the stereo to find the local radio station that Storybrooke produced and sighed happily when she realized they would be playing non-stop Christmas music. 

"So you never told me where you're vacationing from," Belle sparked the conversation once the three tiers of the three had been set up and all branches parted to look more lively. 

"Boston," Royce said smoothly. "I'm an Attorney and I simply use Storybrooke as a vacation place to step away from the realities of the world."

"Do you just own the cabin?"

"A house too," he stated. "Neal insists I rent it to families which is why I spend my vacation time in the cabin. It's a better escape from the small town gossip that can flood so easily."

"That's very sweet of you," she noted. 

He smiled and hung up a gold ornament. "And what about you Belle? Where is your final destination for this vacation?"

"Bangor. My Father and I moved there not too long after my Mother passed. I live in Bridgeport now but Bangor will always be where I take my vacation."

Royce pulled out a star from the bottom of the box. "Would you like to put the star atop?"

She glanced up at the tree. Seven feet tall the tree stood in competition of her pixie height of five foot two. Royce couldn't be even six feet tall himself and even he would struggle if she declined. 

"I can bring you a step to assist you."

She thanked him and immediately he returned with a stool. Small still and she knew she would struggle even with this kind assistance. With the star in one hand and her balance reliant on the balls of her feet, Belle reached as far as she could to place the star on top of the tree to complete the image. She groaned in frustration as she continued to fall inches short even with Royce tilting the tree ever so slightly to avoid any ornaments from falling off but still assisting her. 

"I think," she gasped out with a struggle, "I've just about got it--oh!"

Leaning too close to the edge of the stool, her weight balancing on a ball that was teetering on the edge of the stool, Belle managed to place the star firmly on top and with so fall off. She was prepared for a painful landing, face first onto the solid hardwood floors before Royce moved swiftly in front of her and grabbed hold of her arms to stop her. The weight of force caused him to stumble back and with his hands still gripping onto her arms, Belle followed with feet uncertain on where to go. 

"Thank you," Belle breathed out when the two came to a complete halt.

Royce instantly let go of her arms and stepped back to get her personal space. "It's no matter."

Belle picked up the stool she knocked over, suppressing the desire to tell him that it was in fact a matter. He didn't have to catch her. Not that she was in any real danger if she fell on her bottom anyways. "I'm going to make some hot cocoa now. Would you care for some?"

"Yes. Thank you," he breathed out.

With her back towards him, Belle suppressed a giggle that was growing from below. A schoolgirl smile across her face. He'd never admit such a thing, but Royce Gold had the face as red as the Christmas ornaments he owned.  

x

Rich chocolate mix, strategically placed marshmallows to make it look like a mug from the commercials, and just the perfect amount of whipped cream atop to add the finish. Belle looked down at the two mugs, beaming proudly. They were perfectly identical to the ones she and her Father made every year and enjoyed in their tradition. It was a small, dare to say insignificant, detail to their Christmas vacation but it was the one she treasured most of all. It was her Mother who initially proposed and encouraged a routine of hot cocoa by the fire and after her passing, Belle embraced it to the fullest of extent. 

"Here you are," Belle beamed. "I normally make it from scratch but your instant mix should suffice."

He thanked her, taking the mug with both hands and allowed the hot mug to warm his hands. Momentarily, he regretted not buying the supplies she would need to make her cocoa from scratch but without even knowing she could or would make it he brushed it behind himself. Neal favoured the instant mix and that was how it always was. He didn't expect at all to be helping a young woman who was stranded on the road who could make hot cocoa from scratch. 

"Still good though," she chirped happily. "What do you think?"

Royce brought the mug to his lips and gently blew into the cup, forcing the hot steam that was coming up brush his cheeks. A wonderful feeling that he paid no mind to every other time he drank a cup of cocoa. But other times the cocoa wasn't made by a beautiful stranger he helped. 

"It's delicious," he responded truthfully. 

"My Mother has this amazing recipe that we'd make each year. Then we'd listen to Christmas music and sit by the fire while we read our favourite books and finished off the last of the cocoa," she sighed softly in remembrance. "I'm sorry. I've seemed to have imposed my vacation traditions upon your own haven't I? I'm terribly rude after all of the hospitality you've provided for me. Do you and Neal have traditions when you take your vacations here?"

Royce did his quick smile once more. "Not exactly. Apart from coming here every year, our vacation periods are never the same. Mundane in its style of driving to Storybrooke just for a few days in a cabin but there are no set traditions." He took another drink from the mug, cooler now from when he first started moments ago. "You're not imposing at all Belle. You are welcome to uphold any traditions you wish tonight."

"Do you have any books?" She asked as her blue eyes made a quick round about the room. "My Father would always go through old photo albums as I would read while we drank hot cocoa and listened to Christmas music. Perhaps we could do something similar to unwind?"

He took no hesitation to guide the young woman. "One of the bedrooms is filled with many books, you should be able to find some to your liking."

Staring at the large bookcase in the bedroom was enough to reach Belle's taste of liking. Staked with books that looked old and well read from years of love, some with nice spines that had yet to be broken into, others that she knew must have once belonged to Neal in his youth before he went to high school. 

She started from the top to find one that would catch her interest, murmuring each name of the book to herself as she forgot that Royce was only mere inches behind her. 

"You're welcome to sleep in this room for the night," Royce spoke softly, startling Belle from the focus of book titles.

"Thank you. I hate to ask, but you wouldn't happen to have a spare set of pyjamas do you? All of my clothes are still in my car miles outside of the town and I don't want to send you back into the storm just for some silly sleep wear."

"Of course, Belle. When you are ready to retire I'll fetch them for you." He said no more on the topic, sensing her embarrassment from even asking after he had offered her so much hospitality already. "Have you chosen a book?"

Belle nodded and pulled out a well used copy of his favourite Charles Dickens novella. "Conveniently, you have A Christmas Carol. I think that's perfect to read the day before Christmas Eve, don't you agree?"

He nodded, silently agreeing. 

x

With fresh cocoa in their mugs, another large pine log on the fire, and the radio turned to an appropriate level to play their Christmas jingles the two adults made their ways around to become as comfortable as possible. Belle curled herself near the fire, taking the blanket off of the bed she would later be sleeping in and wrapping it loosely around herself like a poorly wrapped burrito. The book opened to the first stave of A Christmas Carol. Royce himself had taken a book shortly after Belle grabbed one, paying no mind to the title nor plot and seated himself a fair distance away in a chair that was uncomfortably stiff. 

In truth, as much as he enjoyed the little time he would be granted with Miss French, he couldn't help but hope that she would stay a little while longer. Not the entirety of her short vacation, but long enough that he also wouldn't be alone for the next two days. He failed to tell Neal that tomorrow he would be taking Miss French back to Billy's auto shop and then never see the young woman again. He told his son he had a guest who would be with him and his son needn't pay mind to his elderly Papa being alone on Christmas. Royce had not expected to grow so attached to the young woman in such a short time. Mere hours and he had the sensations below his belt that were identical to a school boy. He felt like a pathetic, lonely old man. 

There was no doubt that with her departure would leave him with a level of sadness he did not expect to encounter this vacation.

Royce absent mindlessly flipped through the pages of the book. Thinking instead of Neal and the lonely events he endured when his son was absent. Holidays with Neal growing up was only Thanksgiving and Christmas. A birthday and summer month too, if his ex-wife was generous enough. This Christmas would be the first without Neal and there was no doubt it was an unexpected amount of pain that struck his heart when he shared the news of Emma. He couldn't be mad at Emma, nor tiny Henry, for keeping Neal away. A man needed to put his family first; a pregnant wife on bed rest needed quiet and calm. Not an in-law visiting just so he wouldn't be lonely for one day. Neal was the one who insisted that Royce stayed in Storybrooke, unaware how much the Christmas vacation they took meant to his Father. 

If he kept Miss French - Belle - for the holidays her own Father would be lonely and suffer the same feelings of loneliness. 

His cocoa was cold now and the woman by the fire was drawn into another world as she read. Entirely unaware that he flipped through the pages of the book instead and that Royce had forgotten that the music on the stereo was still playing even. He could leave and be well rested in bed before she would even notice.

"Royce?" Belle's voice sang to him.

His tired eyes blinked to bring himself back to reality and was almost shocked to see the young woman standing in front of him. "Yes Belle?"

"You look upset. I don't think Christmas is a time to be upset, don't you think?"

"I think not," he agreed. 

She smiled and extended both of her hands to him. "Dance with me to the music?"

He gaped at her for a moment, not comprehending what she asked or why.

"Come one," she teased, "it'll be fun and hopefully put a smile on that face."

It was the middle of a song at that moment and he easily could have protested against it to tell her to wait until another, perhaps even more suitable, song came on the stereo but Belle was determined; a woman who had her mind set on something and got it done. 

"Do you know how to dance?" She placed one of his hands against her trim waist. "I actually don't at all. Maybe we can just dance in a way that feels natural."

She grinned wildly when he accepted her hand in his and lead her in a rocking circle around the living room as the music played on. His hands were soft and his touch against her waist was gentle. She felt delicate in his hands, held by him as if she was a breakable ornament that he treasured so dearly. It was intoxicating and Belle could drink it in for eternity. Never before had she been held in such a way and it sent her mind to wonderful fantasies she would dream about for weeks. 

A new song start on the station; an piano version of her favourite carol for as long as she could remember. 

Without thinking, she moved closer to Royce and gently placed her head against his shoulder as they continued their lazy dance of shifting weight from foot to foot and completely a sloppy circle. She could feel his heartbeat pick up. A soothing _tha-thump_  that varied in its pace based on how and whenever she moved. It was fun, she found, to move a different way just to see if the heartbeat would increase. Wiggling her fingers to stretch them out did nothing but if her thumb shifted and grazed his hand it sent his heart into a frenzy. His hand was steady on her waist but if she moved in any direction of up or down it would run rampant once more.  A cruel game, but she quietly enjoyed the sensations she gave him. She felt beautiful and wanted and almost loved by this man she'll know for no more than a day. 

More songs and came and went while the two danced in their slow circle and Belle could feel herself being lulled to sleep as both of Royce's arms were around her waist, holding her close like a lover. Her own arms around his frame, head still enjoying it's place on his shoulder. Comforting sounds, warm arms that kept her close, the lovely scent of cocoa and pine lingering between the two of them. 

In an instant a lively Christmas song aired and it brought Belle back down to the living room and reminded her of her current position. The circle was no longer in the equation of their dance but instead a gentle rock from one foot to the other. She couldn't tell when the circle had stopped and when this lovers embrace began. 

She cleared her throat and gently pulled away enough to just share some fair distance, pink in the cheeks.

"It's getting very late. I think I'm going to shower and head off to bed if you don't mind."

Royce nodded and let go of her a little too quickly. Equally pink in his own cheeks. 

As the water ran from the bathroom, Royce was as quiet as possible as he entered. Hoping he would be quick enough to get in and get out without her catching him in the middle of her shower. She would know, as soon she she drew back the shower curtain she'd know, but it'd be best if she didn't catch him in the act. 

He gathered up her dirty garments and left a pair of his own pyjamas on the bathroom counter for her. Clothes still trapped in her car, he would hate to send her out wearing the same things from the night before soiled, when he has the equipment to wash it here and now. 

x

Nearly half an hour later Belle turned off the hot water. Her body fresh and pink from the water being a bit too hot as she scrubbed the day away. It took no time to notice that her host had been inside the room as she was naked, inches away. The knowledge alone sent a shivering sensation up her back and she tried with her might to ignore it enough to make it through the night. Doing such personal actions in the house of a man she hardly knew would be already more inappropriate than the thought she had clouding her mind. 

On the counter, Belle spotted the pyjamas he exchanged for her dirty clothing. They were a deep Navy blue and silk, nicer and more expensive than any of the pyjamas she would ever own. Royce Gold was too good to her. 

"Thank you for the pyjamas," she spoke softly as she startled him in the living room as Royce checked on the fire. "Although I believe you could have waited until I was finished before taking my clothes to wash them."

"My apologies, but I'm growing rather tired myself and starting the wash now gives me time to transfer them to the dryer without forgetting them over night and thus needing to send it through all over again."

"Oh, no, I'm sorry. I didn't think about it like that," she backtracked. "I didn't realize you were also growing so tired. If I had known I wouldn't have said anything about it. Thank you, though, for the pyjamas. They feel _wonderful_."

He laughed lightly, amused by her fluster. "It's no problem at all Belle. I'll call Billy first thing in the morning for the status on your car. Good night."

She walked closer and took a stance directly beside him. "I want to thank you again. And I'll thank you a dozen times over again tomorrow morning but you can't begin to understand how much I appreciate your kindness; all of your kindness today. It means so much to me." Her hand crept up from behind and squeezed his shoulder, tugging him gently to face her. "You've shown me more kindness in one day than I believe I've ever received in my entire life. I don't believe I can ever repay you for all that you're doing to help me." She pushed herself up to the balls of her feet and gently leaned in, kissing Royce's cheek as softly as possible. The beautiful _tha-thump_ loud enough for her to hear when her lips made contact with his warm flesh. 

Back onto flat feet, she only smiled before murmuring good-night and heading towards her room, giving him no chance to respond. 

x

It was near the middle of the morning before Belle emerged herself from the bedroom. Her clean clothing now on her instead of his pyjamas, hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, clear that she struggled with the comb and fancied a brush instead. 

"Breakfast?" He motioned to the stove top where he had eggs and bacon cooking; a delicious smell that she inhaled deeply.

"Yes. Thank you very much." 

"I called Billy earlier this morning," Royce started as he tended to the food. "He headed out before the shop even opens so he could help get you on the road sooner. Shortly before you awoke, he called me and said he's got it at his shop and is just checking on it. You should be on your way to Bangor before lunch."

As eager as she was to see her Father, she was far from ready to terminate her company with Royce. As soon as she left, he would be on his own and it felt cruel to leave him on Christmas Eve after he took her in. "That was faster than I expected."

"I promised to get you on your way and Billy is the best mechanic in the Northeast if I must say."

"I believe you," Belle said breathlessly. "Are we leaving right after breakfast?"

Royce began to move the food to two plates. "If that's what you wish. I can imagine that you're very eager to get to your Father what with it being Christmas Eve now."

With no belongings except for what was on her back and the little purse that carried no more than a tiny wallet, Belle tried to make these final moments last. She took her time with breakfast and complimented his basic cooking abilities. Helping with the clean up of the dishes, and insisting that she finished the novella she started the night before. Belle did not expect such wonderful company that would make her want to stay longer. If her Father would be willing to break his own tradition and leave the house her Mother spent her last Christmas alive in, she'd insist on only going up to Bangor to pick her Father up to bring him right back down to Storybrooke. The town, and a certain seasonal resident, had an attracting charm.

It wasn't until Billy himself called Royce's phone when she knew it was time to go for sure. 

x

"You're good to go, Belle." Billy announced as he slid her keys across the front desk. "You're really lucky. No damages to your car in any way, shape, or form. I've never seen anyone get trapped in a ditch full of snow and have not even a small scratch on their car. Impressive. I did notice your heater was a bit wonky so I went ahead and fixed that for you."

Belle smiled sheepishly like the first time she met Billy. "I just didn't see the curve is all. I don't know if it's really luck that would be on my side. Thank you for fixing the heater, the darn thing has never worked for as long as I've owned the car." She could only imagine how expensive her bill would be now. 

She barely had time to open her purse when Billy shook his head and protested. 

"Mr. Gold and I spoke on the phone earlier. You don't need to worry about payment. He's taken care of it."

Belle let out a soft gasp from disbelief. Paying Billy would dry up a fair amount of her feeble funds and she swore that in the middle of her long-winded rambling when Royce first picked her up off the road and she mentioned how little she had. It would be the furthest thought from her mind that this man would also pay for the assistance Billy provided.

"Thank you," she sputtered out in disbelief as she caught eye of the bill of services Billy treated her car for. A large sum of money she sorely lacked indeed. Billy didn't need to fix her heater and yet went above and beyond in his superb service. "Royce was right; you are the best in the state."

Billy raised a brow. Uncommon was it to hear anyone call Mr. Gold by his first name. 

"Shall we get you on the road? I'm sure your Father must be very impatient for your arrival," Royce said in an amused tone as he extended his arm to guide her outside. 

"Thank you again," she started, "for all of your help. I don't even want to think about what would have happened if you didn't stop and assist me. You showed me so much kindness and I wish there was a way I could repay you."

Royce held up a hand in protest. "There's no need, Belle. Your company was well enough payment."

She frowned, her company was for a single night and she all but claimed ownership on his cabin. "But what about tomorrow? Who wants to spend their Christmas vacation alone?"

He was amused by her weak protest. "As I told you last night, I've spent many alone. Another will not be a bother."

"I don't think that you need to be spending Christmas alone. No one should, especially since your loneliness can be avoided." Belle bit her bottom lip, grinding her teeth down into the pink flesh. "This may be forward, considering we've only just met, but I believe we must be past all of the slow burn beginnings friends make given last night, but would you like to join me for Christmas? I'm certain my Father wouldn't mind. He may enjoy the extra company in the home."

Royce was quiet, pondering on her offer for what felt like long, dramatically slowed minutes. 

"I would love to, Miss French."

Belle gasped with excitement and with delight, wrapped her arms around him. 

"With the exception, of course, that we take my car instead," he teased with a coy smile. 

 


End file.
